"Moo...Moo"

I was holding my one year old nephew on the terrace, pointing out the sky and clouds, lights and the moon to him and drawling out these words for him to learn their sounds. For the moon he repeated "moo...moo" and spread out his hand towards it and looked at me the way he does for things, specially lights on the wall or the roof, that he can't reach, when he wants somebody to lift him and reach him out to them. He wanted to touch the moon. He sincerely thought he could touch it. That moment is my little joy forever.